A Pinch of Cinnamon
by difficile
Summary: Balthier loves cinnamon. So what happens when he encounters Vaan, alone in the storeroom of Migelo’s sundries, covered in his favorite substance?


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**A Pinch of Cinnamon**

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Vaan blinked down at the elder bangaa and a pregnant pause fell between the two before the Hume repeated Migelo's request, voice laced with quiet incredulity.

"You want me to get you _how many pounds_ of cinnamon?"

From a few aisles of potions and antidotes over, Balthier paused mid-reach in his browsing and looked up silently at the bronzed teen and the bangaa, observing the exchange of words with piqued interest.

"Aye, Vaan. I know you're busy, off and about doin' the gods only know what with them _sky pirates_," Balthier's eyes narrowed at the way those two words were spat out like sour wine, and he remembered again why he detested the bangaa race so, "but I just need this one favor."

"But… why cinnamon in your shop? And _twenty-five_ pounds of it?" Vaan asked, still a bit skeptical at being asked to haul up a ridiculous amount of spice from the storage room. This question earned a sigh from the elder bangaa.

"My storage room is the biggest in Rabanastre – though I wouldn't mind the actual_ shop itself_ being a bit bigger – and so I was asked to keep the spices and such used for banquets under the shop."

Vaan nodded and sighed, rubbing his arm. "Twenty-five pounds of it, though?"

In return, Migelo chuckled and shook his head. "Yes. The reason fer so much is b'yond me. But I just keep it, I don't control it."

Normally Vaan would decline the request, if it wasn't Migelo asking it – for the bangaa had taken care of him and Penelo for years when they were just starving orphans on the street. Bringing up some sacks from downstairs would be the least he could do.

"It won't take y'long, Vaan," Migelo assured with a light pat on the bronzed teen's arm.

"Hm, and it better not. We've hunts to attend to in the Nalbina Dungeons and I'd rather not waste time here hauling around spices," the russet-haired man from a few aisles down interrupted, walking over to the front desk where the conversation was taking place. Crossing his arms and giving Migelo a dignified look, Balthier continued, "Dare I ask, however, why you couldn't ask another to do this frivolous job? Why not yourself, for that matter?"

Ever since the sundries shop owner and Balthier met, it was obvious that they didn't get along. Apparently time did nothing to ease the tension between hume and bangaa, and the blonde spectator noted this with disappointment.

Vaan opened his mouth in a failed attempt to berate Balthier in his unnecessary interrogation before Migelo snapped back, "Always meddling, you sky pirates, eh?"

Balthier merely tilted his head to the side and grinned, Vaan watching in quiet chagrin as the sky pirate only chose to fight fire with fire. A very sarcastic fire. " 'Tis a part of the culture, if you will."

Eyes narrowing in a silent threat, the bangaa took a step forward and eyed Balthier most suspiciously. "Hardly a_ culture_, of all things."

"I could say the same about you and your race of rather barbaric, reptilian-hybrid—"

Vaan grabbed this moment and stepped in front of Balthier quickly, earning a dissatisfied grunt from the self-proclaimed leading man at being interrupted – he was just getting to the good part, too. A nervous grin on his featurefs, Vaan scratched the back of his head and attempted poorly to make up for Balthier's curt mannerisms.

"I'll get right on it. Balthier, if we're hunting in the deadlands, we should probably stock up on those eye drops."

Silence was his answer, along with a most condescending look from the sky pirate. Vaan merely grasped Balthier's shoulders and turned him towards the aisles.

"_Eye drops_," he repeated more forcefully, eyeing the sky pirate (who found this oddly adorable and complied). Turning to the stacks, Balthier ran his fingers along the vials.

"Oh, goody. Eye drops, the highlight of my afternoon," he commented with transparent fascination.

Vaan rolled his eyes and turned back to the frazzled bangaa, offering a grin before he headed to the door near the back of the store. He opened it and proceeded down the semi-dilapidated wooden stairs.

'_S'been a while since I've done chores for Migelo…_Vaan mused quietly to himself. He noted the thin layers of dust that ornamented every single shelf and item that lay forgotten in the basement of the shop as he continued. _Still hasn't changed much._

On reaching the cold cement floor, blue eyes scanned the slightly monochromatic surroundings for the sacks of cinnamon. Vaan's metal shoes made quiet echoes through the room as he searched through the several stacks; the sunlight pouring in through the pulverous window was the only light source Vaan had. Being a street-dweller who spent most of his time in Lowtown and the waterway, both places of darkness, Vaan navigated with confidence.

However, finding the sacks of cinnamon was something he wasn't too sure about. Scrutinizing each and every burlap sack he passed, it wasn't until several trips up and down the aisles that Vaan gave a frustrated groan. Balthier was waiting upstairs, and god only knows how else he preoccupied himself other than taunting a paranoid bangaa and marveling sarcastically over eye drops. For all Vaan knew, Balthier had left already.

Coming across this idea, Vaan's eyes widened and he stopped mid-step in the center of the seemingly endless sea of shelves. _He wouldn't…_

Widened eyes narrowed, and Vaan released a puff of air out of pert, chapped lips.

…_He would. You know, he totally would._

As he stumbled upon this realization, the blonde rolled his eyes and let out another exasperated sigh, quickening his pace as he searched for the damned sacks of spice.

Usually dire rats didn't stray too far from Lowtown, though there were pipes in the waterway that threaded through Rabanastre and allowed the vermin to enter shops and homes alike. However, though this was a well-backed reason, Vaan wasn't expecting an encounter such a large rodent as he turned a corner and down another row of storage shelves.

A pair of yellow eyes blinked at him curiously, and before Vaan could even punt it out of the way, the agile rat weaved between the blonde's legs and with a grunt he fell to the floor, banging his head on the wooden shelf with a painful thunk that sent colors flying to his periphery vision. Barely, over the sound of the teetering shelf, Vaan heard an almost delighted squeak come from the rat before it disappeared behind one of the many crevices in the wall.

Vaan groaned to himself and remained on the begrimed, cold floor, hardly registering the continuous sound of the rickety shelf he crashed against before it all stopped abruptly. Not a second later did a large burlap sack come tumbling down from the top and onto the oblivious head of Vaan with a hollow thud.

He would have grunted again in pain and surprise, if Vaan hadn't found his mouth chock-full of a strong spice, and it didn't take him long to realize…

He found the cinnamon.

Problem?

Vaan was currently covered in a thin sheen of the substance from head to knee. The burlap sack, which apparently wasn't secured at the top at all, lay deflated to the side, and Vaan sat quietly as he seethed.

The sight would have looked pretty threatening if Vaan wasn't so adorable when angry, and if he didn't look like he had just stepped inside from a red-sandstorm.

Really, what kind of damnation did the Gods have in mind when they made him go down to the storeroom? Death by spice?

Vaan's face was covered in a veil of the fine cinnamon, and he suddenly threw his head back and let out a little sneeze, watching lazily as the powder-like substance floated in front of his speckled vision.

"Great," he wheezed, and wasn't surprised to see cinnamon come from his mouth as the sarcastic comment was barely heard. Every inhale of breath Vaan took, he got more of an overdose of the scent than any spice-passionate hume would want in twelve lifetimes. Little sneezes turned to coughs as the blonde-gone-brunette stumbled up clumsily and caught his balance on the untrustworthy wooden shelves.

Everything around him was a floating, rusty haze. He looked down at himself and blanched (though hardly noticeable) as he saw that his whole entire body was a healthy shade of reddish brown. Hurriedly, Vaan brushed himself off, only to gape again as the pulverulent substance gravitated back to his chest and onto his pants again.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head violently in pathetic attempts to rid himself of the damned particles suffocating him, yet shocked to find it totally and utterly fruitless.

_Oh man oh man oh man, Balthier is going to kill me!_ the negative thoughts kept flowing through his poorly set up emotional barricade and the teen whipped around (cinnamon flying from his once flaxen locks) to find a broom or anything to clean up the remnants of the spill before said sky pirate either left or came down himself.

His vision was nothing but specks of brown, and Vaan once again shook his head fiercely, and as usual to no avail. Thankfully he managed to get it off his face, vest, and pants with the friction of hurried hands, but his hair and arms were a different story. With a loud and frustrated groan he tangled his fingers in his locks and rubbed his scalp hard and quick whilst shaking back and forth. Too caught up in his heated frenzy, Vaan didn't even hear the footsteps come down the stairs and into the storeroom.

Vaan was not the first thing Balthier noticed when stepping into the dreary sundries basement. The foremost factor that caught the man's attention was the enticingly pleasant fragrance of cinnamon permeating the once mildew-scented room, and with a little smile Balthier inhaled before exhaling with a satisfied 'ah'.

He stopped mid-breath however as his chestnut eyes landed on a bedraggled figure whom the sky pirate had to squint to recognize through the rust-colored veil adorning his body. With a quiet, finishing exhale of the enticing fragrance of cinnamon, Balthier crossed his arms and shifted his weight to the other hip, a grin ornamenting his handsome features.

"My, my. What have we here?" the russet-haired man mused quietly to himself, observing as Vaan, unaware of his presence (to no surprise), tried desperately to get – was that _cinnamon_? – out of his hair.

Balthier stood there for what seemed like a full minute, leaning against the rickety stair railings with an ever-increasing grin. The smell of cinnamon made Balthier's senses reel wildly, and it wasn't until a cute little sneeze came from Vaan (spice flying in all different directions) that the sky pirate chose to speak.

"Seems you've got yourself into a bit of a muddle, if I do say so myself," he commented, earning a surprised yelp from the other. Vaan turned to look at Balthier, cinnamon still floating about him.

Another sneeze.

Losing his balance slightly, Vaan put a hand to his forehead and groaned before replying in a slur, "IcanexplainIreallycanitwasn'tmyfaultthecinnamon—ACHOO! …Gugh."

It took all the willpower Balthier had ever mustered to bite down the chuckle threatening to creep up and burst out at the amusing and rather cute sight.

Balthier held up one hand to silence Vaan and walked over, taking in another strong whiff of his favorite fragrance. Vaan blinked through his cinnamon-induced haze and sniffled, mulling quietly over what Balthier was assessing about this situation.

"What ever got you into such a fix, Vaan? Ah, let me guess – your incurable clumsiness, perhaps?" Balthier assumed, grin only stretching as he detected the blush through the myriad of specks decorating Vaan's face.

"I…tripped."

"Since when did cinnamon fall from the sky on cue with falling teenagers?"

Vaan opened his mouth but paused, holding up his index finger and looking away as he sneezed again.

"Since…I tripped."

"Fascinating," Balthier commented with a quirked brow and deadpan tone, reaching inside his vest pocket and revealing his handkerchief. Vaan blinked, and a few specks of cinnamon resting on his dark eyelashes fell into his eye. He winced and rubbed it away irritably.

Balthier gazed at the spectacle before him, enjoying each and every breath he took as he neared the teen. The fine, powdery substance clung to his well-toned chest, arms, his vest, and all the way to his knees. An amusing sight to behold, to say the least.

A pair of brown eyes scanned Vaan with the coy sparkle of a coeurfl about to take down its prey – in the kinkiest way possible.

"Tut tut, Vaan. We have to meet the rest of the party soon, and here you've gone, off for a cinnamon bath…and neglected to invite me?" he berated playfully, blotting his handkerchief across Vaan's shoulders and over to his collarbone, where his eyes remained for an extended period of time.

Balthier licked his lips as he stumbled across a brilliant revelation, and he paused mid-blot and let out a melodramatic sigh as the Leading Man put on his act.

"Oh blast, this will never do," the sky pirate said to himself, his voice implying disappointment. He shook his handkerchief out and Vaan watched lazily as the cinnamon floated aimlessly in mid-air. Balthier then tucked it back in his vest before looking up at Vaan's paranoid gaze.

"You want this off of you, I am assuming?"

"Uh, well yeah."

_Pity…_ Balthier thought for a moment, fighting back a smirk.

"Well then, don't question me," he instructed in a whisper, not waiting for an answer before pushing Vaan against the cold wall of the storeroom.

Vaan's breath hitched and he paused, digesting the words and interpreting more than one intention with such a comment. Was Balthier joking around? The look in his eyes said differently- much differently. Curse his acting skills.

It wasn't until Balthier was nose-to-nose with the blonde that Vaan realized…no, Balthier wasn't joking around. With a slow blink Balthier moved to the side of Vaan's neck where he inhaled again.

"_Don't you know how much I love cinnamon_?" he whispered before attaching his mouth to Vaan's neck and licking up the substance with a slow, wet tongue.

Vaan bit his lip and suppressed a yelp similar to a frightened five-year-old girl, stiffening at the warm and slightly arousing contact. His heart thudded against his chest and he swallowed before answering.

"N-not until n-now," Vaan gasped, rendered paralyzed as Balthier continued his ministrations up the side of his neck, licking and occasionally nipping until he reached the teen's ear where he whispered, voice laced with promise,

"You should have known better than to cover yourself in such an enticing spice, especially around me," he grinned, licking the miniscule particles off his own lips before burying his hands into Vaan's hair and ruffling it.

The air surrounding them was nothing but cinnamon, and Balthier took in a breath again, senses going wild. Vaan had no idea Balthier had such a fetish-like kink for such a scent, but to each his own.

Brown eyes surveyed his prey before him while idly tracing lazy circles on Vaan's shoulders before he leaned in and stole a kiss from spice-flavored, unaware lips. The thief beneath his touch jolted at the contact, but Balthier's placating via experienced, talented lips was enough to lull Vaan into a state of pleasurable relaxation. Balthier only deepened the kiss as Vaan gave in to his irresistible charm, nipping and licking at the moist, pert pair of lips beneath his like an enjoyable snack.

_Note to self, Cinnamon is equivalent to pirate bait._ Vaan thought, cooing happily into the kiss as Balthier's tongue brushed against his in silent encouragement. Previous dilemma forgotten, Vaan succumbed more than willingly to this wooing, and soon sky pirate and desert thief were preoccupied in a heated liplock. Balthier strayed from Vaan's lips every now and then to nip at the tip of his nose or side of his jaw, picking up any more cinnamon that might have escaped his lips before reclaiming the pair forcefully again.

Unfortunately, oxygen was soon needed and the kiss broke, lips millimeters apart before a chuckle bubbled past Balthier's lips. Vaan's half-lidded eyes portrayed his blissful torpor, and he let out a little laugh of his own.

"Never knew you liked it that much," he commented breathlessly, licking his lips; Balthier mimicked the action.

"Nor did I," was Balthier's reply before he leaned in and licked the other side of his neck and the his collarbone completely clean, earning little gasps and even a soft moan (Balthier mentally noted where that sweet spot was) until the russet-haired man was satisfied.

The familiar voice of an elder bangaa threw both smitten young men from their moment as Migelo called from upstairs,

"Is Balthier helpin' you down there or just bossing you 'round, Vaan?"

Balthier rolled his eyes and Vaan chuckled, replying before the sky pirate, "Oh, he's doing a good job helping. Trust me."

There was an elongated silence that hinted suspicion before Migelo spoke again. "All right, then. Oh and Vaan, I only need one sack. I know there is another," Vaan grinned impishly and resisted the urge to contradict, "but if you boys could bring up that one, that'll be all."

"I'd say we had a rare stroke of luck, hm?" Balthier whispered as Migelo went back to his upstairs duties, and Vaan nodded his head while brushing off the rest of the cinnamon from his shoulders.

With much precaution and a few innuendos later, the burlap sack was hauled up by the blonde and brunette and handed to Migelo, who eyed the sky pirate suspiciously after noting the healthy blush spread across Vaan's face.

"If our work here is done," Balthier spoke before Migelo could voice his thoughts, "we'd best be on our way."

"Be gone, then," Migelo said, waving his hand dismissively, but with a small grin to show he was not being hostile. With a nod of the head from Balthier and a smile from Vaan, the two men headed out of the sundries shop and towards Westgate for their hunting departure.

Vaan, as usual, hurried along in the blazing desert sun, and Balthier grinned again as he strolled at his own slow pace. It wasn't until he spotted something on Vaan's little rear did he pick up his pace and walked side-by-side with the blonde. Silence stretched between them for a moment as they entered the center of the city, Vaan too occupied in taking notice of the things transpiring around the fountain and therefore giving the sky pirate a perfect opportunity to act out his exhibitionist desires.

The only warning Vaan had was Balthier's whisper of, "You missed a spot," before the blonde was thrown out of his daze with a high pitched yelp as a pair of fingers pinched his bum hard yet quick. Vaan watched, blushing, as Balthier made his escape quickly. Vaan gave chase to the chuckling sky pirate, rubbing his butt where the sky pirate pinched.

He would get his revenge. Soon.

But first he needed to snag some of Penelo's cinnamon-scented spray. Can't lure a pirate without good bait…

However ironic said bait may be.

**_Review._**


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